He opened one of the curtains, and throwing himself beside the exhausted, but watchful Helen, clasped his arms roughly about her, and exclaimed, "Sweet minion, I must pillow on your bosom till the morn awakes!" His brutal lips were again riveted to her cheek.

Ten thousand strengths seemed then to heave him from her heart; and struggling with a power that amazed even herself, she threw him from her; and holding him off with her shackled arms, her shrieks again pierced the heavens.
"Scream thy soul away, poor foul!" exclaimed Soulis, seizing her fiercely in his arms; "for thou art now so surely mine, that Heaven itself cannot deprive me!" At that moment her couch was shaken by a sudden shock, and in the next she was covered with the blood of Soulis.

A stroke from an unseen arm had reached him, and starting on his feet, a fearful battle of swords took place over the prostrate Helen.
One of the men, out of the numbers who hastened to the assistance of their master, fell dead on her body; while the chief himself, sorely wounded, and breathing revenge and blasphemy, was forced off by the survivors.

"Where do you carry me, villians ?" cried he.

"Separate me not from the vengeance I will yet hurl on that demon who has robbed me of my victim, or ye shall die a death more horrible than hell can inflict!" He raved; but more unheeded than the tempest.